


Tease

by lallyloo



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Desk Sex, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallyloo/pseuds/lallyloo
Summary: A poison ivy rash gives Link a chance to tease Rhett with some short shorts. So Rhett bends him over the EB desk.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ear Biscuits #249
> 
> Also inspired by captainsourwolf on tumblr, who asked  
>  _Who’s gonna write the fic where Rhett is so worked up over Link’s short shorts and tan thighs that he yanks the shorts down after filming and just fucks him over the table?_
> 
> Also, thanks to fanbabble on tumblr for inspiring the line about Link's creamy skin and dark honey tan.
> 
> This was really just an excuse to write porn.

Link shuts off the cameras and is just about to leave the room when Rhett speaks.

“Hey, man, let me take a look at that rash again.”

Rhett is sitting in his chair as Link approaches him. He’s taking his hair down from the tight bun and mumbling to himself about poison ivy travelling through the bloodstream.

Link lifts his leg to show Rhett the spot on his thigh.

“Four inches,” Rhett smirks, vaguely touching around the poison ivy rash. “It’s just a little crescent. You’re not gonna die.”

“I never said I was gonna die.”

Rhett laughs softly, settling his hand comfortably on Link’s thigh and leaving it there.

Link looks at him, questioningly, but Rhett’s eyes are still focused on his skin. His thumb runs over the tan line peeking out from under the shorts.

Link takes a breath. “What’re --”

“Been thinking about this line the whole time.”

His thumb trails teasingly over Link’s tan line, slipping under the fabric just for a second. Link says nothing as Rhett places his other hand on the opposite leg, thumbing up under the fabric, lifting it just enough to get a peek of milky skin.

“So pale under there.”

“You like that?” Link smirks. “You’re weird, dude.”

Rhett moves his thumbs further up, letting his fingertips follow, pushing against the fabric and seeking more of the pale skin. “Yeah I am.”

Link doesn’t pull away and instead just watches Rhett’s face as his hands explore.

“You wanted to look at the rash, huh?”

“Don’t give a damn about the rash” Rhett mutters.

Link laughs. “You could’ve just asked, man.”

Rhett finally looks up at him. “Can I?”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Link replies, because of course he can.

Rhett’s hands are suddenly moving with more purpose, pushing the fabric up around the top of Link’s thighs, exposing as much milky skin as he possibly can. He trails his fingers over the soft skin that’s been hiding there, before slipping into the crease at the top of Link’s thigh and coaxing a hitched breath from Link.

“You and your damn shorts,” Rhett whispers as he runs his thumb over Link’s dick, which is now half-hard and pressing against the fabric of his shorts.

Rhett moves his hands to Link’s hips, pulling him closer, then pushes the pesky fabric back up, exposing the pale skin again. Rhett trails his tongue over the stark lines there, licking, tasting. He mouths over Link’s dick, licking against the fabric and moving as if he’s trying to suck Link right through his shorts.

Link twists his fingers through Rhett’s hair, holding Rhett’s mouth to him as he ruts his hips a bit, and Rhett lets him for a moment, licking a damp spot into the fabric. Rhett’s hands move to the back of Link’s thighs, fingertips pushing gently into the skin there, palms pressing flat against Link’s skin, before trailing up beneath the fabric, tracing the soft flesh of Link’s ass. 

Then Rhett is pushing Link’s hands away, pulling his mouth away from Link’s dick, and moving to stand, peeling his shirt off as he goes. His fingers reach for Link’s shirt, pulling it off too. Rhett thumbs at Link’s waistband, seeking the tan line there, and Link’s fingers quickly move to the ties at the front, fumbling for a second before yanking them undone and tugging them down a bit. 

Rhett’s fingers slowly trace the line there, moving over Link’s hips, following the trail around to Link’s lower back before dipping below the waistband of his shorts. There’s a hitch in Link’s breath as Rhett squeezes an ass cheek and then ghosts his finger over the cleft of Link’s ass and trails it teasingly down. Rhett is whispering in his ear, filthy things he only whispers in these moments, about how he’d like to finger and fuck and tease Link until he’s coming in his shorts, or how he’d like to fuck him over the table, and the last admission pulls a soft whine from Link’s throat.

Suddenly Rhett is stepping away and rifling through a drawer on the other side of the room. He comes back with a small container of lube.

“You keep lube in your desk?”

Rhett winks at him. “Only at the house.”

Then his hands are on Link again.

“Gotta get these off you,” Rhett is saying and he’s yanking the shorts down Link’s thighs and turning him to bend him over the desk.

Link lets himself be manhandled, leaning into the hard tabletop as he juts his ass up in the air.

Rhett’s breathing is audible as his hands fall back to Link’s skin, pressing into the rounded slope of his ass, suddenly completely distracted by the milky flesh there, creamy soft next to the dark honey tan.

“Fuck, your skin is so beautiful.”

Link notices when one of Rhett’s hands goes missing for a moment, only to return a second later, spit soaked and trailing, moving over the creases at the bottom of Link’s ass, tracing the tan line again.

Link’s dick is pressing hard into the desk, aching for Rhett’s hand or his own, needing that friction.

Link reaches a hand back behind him, straining slightly to reach Rhett’s shorts, fingers grasing at the button and the zipper.

“C’mon, man,” he’s panting, trying to unbutton Rhett’s shorts with his hand upside down and his arm bent behind him.

Rhett swats his hand away, and Link can hear the quick _zip_ as Rhett undoes his shorts and a soft groan as Rhett take his dick out.

“You hard for me?” Link’s asking, teasing, because of course he knows the answer, and he’s pushing his ass up higher.

“Fuck, you know I am.” 

He hears the pop of the bottle and the soft wet sound of lube being squirted out, then another groan as Rhett slicks his cock with it.

“God, Link, I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” Rhett is rambling and Link lets him, listening as Rhett starts to lose himself completely, his lubed fingers trailing over Link’s hole. “You been teasing me all day.”

“Yeah I have,” Link is smiling against the desk, trying to push his ass cheeks up even higher, shaking them slightly as Rhett’s fingers move over him. “Wanted to see what-- ” Link’s words catch in his throat as Rhett slips a finger into him. 

Rhett pushes in, achingly slow, twisting his finger just a bit, not enough, teasing him until Link is pushing back against him, begging for it. His hand is reaching back again, trying to grasp Rhett’s cock and pull him forward.

“Rhett,” Link pants against the table, “it’s too slow. You gotta fuck me. You gotta--”

“Are you gonna stop teasing?”

“I mean… _no_ ,” Link smiles against the desk, knowing he’s driving Rhett crazy.

A sound escapes Rhett’s throat, like laughter and a groan combined, and his finger slips from Link, the slicked fingertips of his hand now digging into the fleshy part of Link’s ass as he lines his cock between Link’s cheeks and pushes in.

Link is panting “finally” against the desk and Rhett holds onto his hips as he thrusts in, his skin slapping hard against the flesh of Link’s ass, and Link isn’t sure if it’s a reward or a punishment. Maybe it’s both.

Link moves his own hand down as Rhett thrusts into him, straining to reach his dick between his body and the desk.

“Rhett, I need,” he’s moaning, “I need--”

And Rhett knows, because he’s pulling Link up from the desk and holding Link’s back against his chest, freeing Link’s cock from the hard tabletop. Rhett reaches his hand around to grasp hold of it, giving it a few swift tugs before Link is coming, shooting hot white streaks across the table. His head drops as his orgasm subsides, chin resting on his chest for a moment, and then he’s leaning forward, planting his palms on the table and fucking back against Rhett’s dick.

“Yeah, Rhett,” he’s moaning, “come for me, man.”

And then Rhett is coming, stilling as he shoots deep into Link. Then his hips are shaky and he does a few more lazy thrusts before he’s easing himself out gently and kissing the back of Link’s neck.

“That was good,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, bo,” Link says as he turns to face him. “You liked it?”

“Yeah, man.” 

Link smiles as he looks around. Their clothes are everywhere, there’s jizz on the table, and the entire room smells like sex and sweat and sunscreen.

“We should tidy up.”

Rhett leans over to pick up Link’s shorts from the floor, dangling them from one finger as he offers them back to Link.

“You need to wear these more often.”

Link glances down, considering Rhett’s plaid golf shorts. “You shouldn’t wear those ones.”

“Hush,” Rhett mutters and shuts him up with his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm lallyloo on tumblr. I mostly post Rhink stuff and sometimes post fic.


End file.
